Run
by tranquil storm
Summary: Let's run away." When running actually led Draco somewhere. HD.


Disclaimer: all characters are in the possession of the woman we all love, Ms. Rowling. 

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"Let's run away." 

Harry Potter had says these words on their first night as sixth years at Hogwarts, outside the castle after midnight. Draco did not go to the divine trinity's compartment in the train on their way there, like he always does. Nor did he speak a single word, or showed any emotion at all. His face was a languid blank, and his eyes were grayer than usual, resembling the sky before a thunderous storm, only the storm never came. He never put his full attention on anything and did every task without a word. 

No one questioned him, though. None of them knew how to console a sixteen-year old boy who just lost both his parents. 

Lucius Malfoy was imprisoned in Azkaban, and his wife Narcissa had killed herself. Draco's mother did not die with a wand on her side or a potion splattered all over the floor, like most wizarding suicides. No, she died with a knife clamped inside her hand and a mingled pool of blood and tears around her and dreams of a little girl whisked away by her prince shattered. She died with a crying photograph of her son held to her bleeding heart. 

"Running is for cowards."

Draco says as much to the Hero Who Ruined His Life, his first word that day, and doesn't cringe at the reply.

"Can't we be cowards at one point in our lives?"

Draco Malfoy has seen enough bad things to haunt him a lifetime of nightmares, and no one ever knew that he was afraid of closing his eyes. He has seen people die and wither and scream, seen their hands grasp thin air and their mouths forming words of sorrow that were never sounded. He had felt the beating of his heart against his ribs more that he ever had during those times, and wondered just why it was still beating while theirs weren't. 

"I've been a coward all my life. Maybe it's time for change."

He had run away all those times, crying in the dark where no one saw his tears and everyone didn't matter. A quick spell would put his red-rimmed eyes back to normal the next day and no one at all would suspect that he couldn't feel his heart anymore. 

"Maybe running just means running, Draco."

Running means escaping, and he was damn sure Potter knew it. Running was the only thing that gave him that temporary release, from life and the world and lies and Voldemort.

"It doesn't matter. I'm tired of running. I'm tired of it just as much as I'm tired of living."

Those were the truest words he'd ever spoken to his rival. _I'm tired of it just as much as I'm tired of hating you. _

"I'll run alone then."

Potter unbuttons his robes and takes it off, throwing it on the dewy grass. Draco closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

And then he runs into the night, Potter chasing after him.

His feet move faster than they ever have, desperately, recklessly. His blond hair is pushed back against the wind and his eyes start stinging. 

__

One last time… 

He promises himself a lie and runs faster, legs aching at the exertion. Maybe if he runs fast enough, his pain won't catch up. Potter is right behind him and he takes little pleasure on the fact that for once _he_ is ahead. 

The Forbidden Forest is waiting for him up ahead, and his fear doesn't get in the way of his feet. He runs straight into the darkened woods, and fights away all the branches. He trusts the trees to shadow his sadness and hatred and desire. 

He doesn't know how long he ran, and it didn't matter. All he wanted was to let his legs take him as far as they can. He even forgets that Potter is behind him.

"Draco!" 

He hears the word only vaguely, sounding like an almost inaudible voice in a slur of resonance. The blood was pounding in his ears and that was mostly all he could hear, all he needed to hear. 

"Draco!" 

The voice sounds nearer now, and he tries to run faster only to have a pair of arms embrace him tightly from behind, stopping him entirely. He sucks in a deep breath, trying to get oxygen into his lungs while trying to free himself of Harry Potter. 

"Let go of me you fucking bastard!" Draco shouts as the arms tighten even more. "Let go!" He flails and struggles until he realizes he's too weak, and too spent, and too out of breath. 

He stops fighting, and says in a deadly calm voice, "Let. Me. Go."

Potter seems to hesitate for a moment but does as he is told, releasing the blond. 

Draco turns and looks at his emerald green eyes coldly. 

"I hate you."

And Harry Potter does what he has always dreamt of doing, and what Draco never saw coming. He shoves Draco Malfoy against the trunk of a tree and presses his lips against the other's. Draco's eyes widen momentarily but his eyelids fall heavily when Harry sensed an opening and slid his tongue into Draco's mouth. His fingers are entwined with Harry's in a few seconds and his hands are held above his head as he moans into the kiss. 

Then Harry felt wetness on his cheek. 

The tears fall from Draco's sealed eyes and Harry stops kissing him immediately, and lets their hands fall. 

"What's wrong?" he asks gently and Draco opens his eyes. 

"I hate you." He repeats, and watches Harry's hurt expression surface. Harry starts to untangle their fingers but Draco squeezes them firmly and descends his eyes, "but then I love you at the same time. That's what's wrong."

Draco looks up at Harry's bewildered expression with wet eyes.

"Draco-" 

"What if they go after me for that?" he whispers as he rests his forehead on Harry's shoulder.

"I'll protect you." Harry doesn't say this the way a hero does, solid and stable. He says this softly, the way a man promises his lover all the diamonds in the world, truthfully, sincerely.

"What if in the end, you just can't?"

Harry closes his eyes and kisses the other boy's hair. 

"Then we'll run again."


End file.
